Man Trap
by elbcw
Summary: The four split up as they run from a group of bandits, Porthos and Aramis run into a little problem. Can Athos and d'Artagnan find them?
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is from an idea Fleuramis gave me. I've probably put a different Musketeer into the trap than you were expecting, I hope you don't mind.

There is not much plot, it's more 'running away' nonsense really. But if their missions went to plan, what would we write about?

Man Trap

Chapter One

There were seven men in all. It was not infeasible that they could fight them. The four of them could easily handle that number. But they had been caught out and with no time to ready themselves to fight, had taken flight instead. Athos was confident they could outrun the men.

When they had obtained the maps and paperwork from the makeshift encampment Athos had been sure their luck would run out. They had found the encampment with ease, they had taken out the two sentries with little effort and had picked the correct tent on the first go. When Porthos had accidentally knocked a pot from its place on a table as they were retreating the seven sleeping men had all awoken at once.

Two gunshots in their direction had the four of them running in seconds. Crashing through the undergrowth of the scrubby wood meant they could not hide the direction they had taken from their pursuers.

'Split up,' yelled Athos as he grabbed d'Artagnan's arm and steered his friend along the left path, whilst Aramis and Porthos branched off to the right.

The scrubby bushes gave way to rocks. A cliff towering over them. They knew the rocky outcrop sloped downward after a few hundred yards, the two paths should meet up again beyond the rock. At least Athos hoped they would.

The path he and d'Artagnan had chosen led to an unexpected dead end. They skidded to a halt faced with a rock face, which would be climbable, given a few minutes to do so. But they did not have a few minutes. They had seconds. Athos glanced across to d'Artagnan who shrugged his shoulders and turned, drawing his gun as he did.

Four of the men were walking towards them.

MMMM

After the path split Aramis and Porthos were forced to run in single file. Pothos took the lead, he had the paperwork, tucked into his doublet. Aramis was not sure if they were even being followed. The men might have all followed d'Artagnan and Athos. If that was the case, he and Porthos would have to double back.

Aramis slowed and turned back to check behind him. Porthos carried on running, unaware that Aramis was stopping. As he slowed his breathing Aramis listened intently, he could not hear anyone approaching. He took a few paces back the way they had come. Aramis scanned the undergrowth. He could not see any movement from any of the bushes and small trees. Unless they were being pursued by very light footed men Aramis was confident that they were not being followed.

But that probably meant the men were all chasing Athos and d'Artagnan. Seven men against the two Musketeers would be a struggle even for swordsmen as good as his friends.

Aramis turned back, he hoped Porthos had not gone too far, they would have to go back to help their friends.

As he began to run after Porthos he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. A scream. Porthos screaming in pain.

Aramis quickened his pace, drawing his gun as he went.

MMMM

The four men had advanced on d'Artagnan and Athos slowly. D'Artagnan did not hesitate in firing his gun, followed a second later by Athos. D'Artagnan took one of the men out, whilst Athos' shot grazed the arm of another.

The man who had been hit by d'Artagnan's shot staggered back a few paces before crumpling to the floor. Another of the men rushed forward, sword swinging wildly as he did so. D'Artagnan steadied himself, easily dodging the first thrust of the man's sword. He pulled his main gauche at the same time. The man swung at him again, d'Artagnan jumped back out of the way.

Athos was fighting one of the other men whilst the injured man stood back. The area they were fighting in was narrow. The natural rocks pinning them in on three sides. D'Artagnan had to watch his sword strokes, he did not want to knock into Athos as he fought.

The injured man was now trying to join the fight, but all he was achieving was to distract the other men. The man fighting Athos was forced back a couple of paces by a forward thrust from the swordsman. The injured man had to sidestep but was not quick enough to avoid being knocked into by the man. They stumbled backwards, the injured man ended up falling over the man d'Artagnan had killed.

The movement distracted the man d'Artagnan was facing for a second. A second was all d'Artagnan needed, he swung his main gauche around, hooked the man's sword out of the way and sliced his own sword across the man's stomach. The effect was instant, the man doubled over, coughing blood as he did so. He fell to his knees, d'Artagnan pushed him out of the way as he stepped forward to assist Athos.

He wondered where the other three men were. There had definitely been seven when they started their scrambled escape. He could only conclude they had gone after Aramis and Porthos. D'Artagnan hoped they were having more luck them Athos and he were.

MMMM

When Porthos had rounded the bend in the path and found it widening, he continued his run, knowing that Aramis would be close behind. His charge was arrested by a metalling snap and a searing pain in his ankle.

Porthos liked to think he was a strong man who was not affected by pain, but when the man trap snapped around his ankle he screamed. His momentum meant he tipped forward and just managed to catch himself with his hands before he crashed to the ground. He twisted around, but the action caused him immense pain. A second cry escaped him. He scrabbled at the trap, without thinking. All he wanted was for the offending item to be off him.

The trap was rusty, the spring was not as tight as it could have been. Despite the pain he was in, Porthos knew he had been lucky. The trap had not cut into his leg, but it was crushing his ankle. The teeth of the trap were digging into his boot. The slightest movement caused agonising shots of pain to radiate outwards. He pulled at the jaws of the trap but could only move it a fraction, when he let go again the trap crushed his ankle again. He threw his head back and cried out again as a fresh wave of pain crashed through him.

As he tried to pull at the trap again he heard a noise from the direction he had come. If it was not Aramis, Porthos knew he stood no chance. He was in no state to fight. Aramis rushed around the corner, skidding to a halt, his face a picture of worry. Porthos sighed with relief. For a moment he found his vision fade away.

'Porthos...Porthos, try to stay awake.'

He felt Aramis' hands on him, pulling him back to sit up where he must have sunk backwards. Porthos managed to focus on his friend. Aramis had switched to his field medic persona, assessing him, and trying to keep him conscious.

Aramis' hands were gently feeling around Porthos' ankle. The trapped musketeer could not help crying out in pain again.

'Sorry, sorry...it doesn't look like you've been cut by the teeth.'

'No, it's just crushing my ankle,' Porthos managed to say through clenched teeth. He was not sure how long he had been trapped, but he was beginning to get used to the pain. He was still breathing fast, but did not feel as though he was going to pass out at any given moment.

Aramis was trying to prise the trap open, he had the heel of his right boot against the mouth of the trap and was tugging at the other side with his hands.

'Aramis, no, you'll get yourself trapped,' said Porthos finding enough strength to reach out to Aramis and knock his shoulder. The action caused Aramis to let go of the trap which he had managed to open a fraction of an inch. The closing jaws crushing Porthos ankle again.

'Sorry...Porthos...please stay awake.'

Pothos realised he must have come close to passing out again. Aramis was staring at him, his hand on Porthos' shoulder.

Noises drew their attention back the way they had come. Aramis rose from where he had been crouched by his friend. Porthos watched him quietly walk back and look around the edge of the protruding rock face.

'Three men,' he said as he returned to Porthos.

'You have to go, take the papers,' said Porthos as he reached into his doublet to retrieve what they had taken from the gang.

'I'm not leaving you,' said Aramis with determination.

'You have to Aramis…'

'No,' said the marksman again as he pulled one of his guns from his weapon belt and handed it to Porthos, 'try to take them out as they round the corner, I'll deal with whatever you can't.'

'Aramis my hands are shaking too much, I won't hit anything,' said Porthos, who could not understand why Aramis would not just run.

The chances of him hitting anything whilst he was fighting the pain in his leg was poor. His breathing was ragged and he knew he was shaking, his aim would be off. If he hit anything with either his or Aramis' gun it would be luck, not judgement.

But Aramis was not going anywhere, his stubborn friend had moved off a few feet, drawing his second gun and checking his sword and main gauche were in optimum position on his belt ready to be drawn after he had fired his gun.

Porthos hoped they could deal with the three men without further mishap. But Porthos doubted they would be that lucky.

MMMM

They both stood panting for a few seconds. Four dead bodies lying at their feet. Athos looked across at d'Artagnan who looked back at him with a celebratory grin. Killing others was not usually a time for celebration, but when it came to kill or be killed, there was time for a moment or two of thankfulness that they were still alive and uninjured.

'We had best keep going the way we are,' said Athos as he turned to face the rocks behind them, sheathing his sword as he did so.

If the men who had probably gone after Aramis and Porthos decided to double back Athos did not fancy another fight, but he knew his friends would easily take out the three gang members if they were to be caught up.

D'Artagnan climbed up the rocks with ease, having found an easier route than Athos. He crouched down and helped the Musketeer to clamber over the top of the short cliff. It was only a few yards high but both men were panting again when they reached the top.

'When we get to the horses, if they aren't there yet we can double back along the path they should be on,' said d'Artagnan looking back along the route they had taken as if he were expecting their friends to appear.

'They will be fine, they have the shorter route. And they only have three men chasing them.'

MMMM

Aramis knew the plan was a poor one, but it was all he could come up with in the little time they had before the men reached them. He knew Porthos was close to passing out and was only still conscious due to the wave of energy he would have felt immediately after he was trapped. Aramis also knew the chances were Porthos would not be able to hit the men as they approached.

Aramis tucked himself behind a narrow tree, it did not offer him much cover but he knew the men would see Porthos first. His friend was totally exposed with no hope of hiding himself.

Porthos had watched him hide with a concerned look. Aramis found it amusing that his friend, who was trapped and injured seemed to be more worried about him.

As the noise of the men grew louder Aramis raised his gun and aimed at the spot he expected to see the men appear. He had decided to allow Porthos his two shots first. He did not want to risk them both shooting at the same attacker and wasting a gunshot.

Porthos fired, the man staggered backwards. Despite the odds being against him, Porthos had hit the first man. However, the other two were now alerted to the danger that faced them. They did not appear around the corner.

Aramis glanced across to Porthos who had propped himself up against the rock face, panting. The second gun held limply at his side. Porthos would not be able to assist any further.

One of the men peered around the rock, Aramis fired his gun, a spray of rock dust showering the man as he jumped back.

The two men must have sensed that Aramis had no more guns to fire, as they charged around the corner, swords drawn, with a cry.

Aramis drew his sword and main gauche and stepped forward to meet the two men.

MMMM

Porthos watched as the two men advanced on his friend. His vision swam for a few seconds. When it cleared he raised the second gun, he tried to aim but knew it was no use. The chance of hitting Aramis was too great. He could not assist his friend.

Aramis was holding his own against the two men, and Pothos was sure he would be able to beat them both. His movements were agile and fluid. The two gang members were not trained, their movements were stiff and predictable.

A slight movement to his left caught Porthos' attention. The man he had shot was still alive. He was crawling forwards slowly, a gun clutched in his right hand. The man had his eyes on the fight a few yards away. Porthos glanced back at his friend and saw that the three men had turned, Aramis now had his back to him and the third gang member. The gang member intended to shoot Aramis in the back.

Porthos could not shout out to his friend, the distraction might allow the two swordsmen to land a killing blow. Porthos would have to deal with the third man himself. He raised his second gun and aimed at the injured man on the floor. As he was about to fire he stopped himself. The noise of the gun would also cause a distraction to his friend. In the heat of battle, the noise would not have caused a distraction, but this was not a battlefield, the noise would cause his friend to worry about him. Porthos realised he would have to deal with the man silently.

He dropped the gun and reached for his dagger. The man did not appear to have noticed him, so intent on his murderous task the man was simply crawling passed him. Porthos guessed the man wanted to be as close as possible to avoid missing his target.

Knowing the move was going to cause him a lot of pain Porthos steeled himself then tipped forward to land on the man's back. He stifled the cry of pain he wanted to make and tried to push his dagger into the man's back. The man dropped the gun as the air was knocked out of him. But his survival instinct kicked in. He twisted himself around and tried to push Porthos away.

Porthos was in pain, but he was also a man with a mission. He had to protect his friend from harm. He grabbed both the wrists of the other man and pulled him over onto his side slightly, at the same time he raised his right arm, tightening his grip on the dagger. He took a breath to steady himself as he thrust the dagger into the lower back of the man. He pushed the blade into the man, up to the hilt. The man squirmed and kicked, but Porthos held him firmly, he twisted the dagger before yanking it out again. The man yelped and weakly tried to push Porthos away.

It took the man a few more seconds to become still. Porthos found he could not move, he lay across the dead man's legs, panting hard, eyes screwed shut trying to push away the pain he felt in his ankle. He knew he was close to passing out. He just hoped he had done enough to help Aramis.

MMMM

D'Artagnan and Athos were a little surprised to reach the horses and not find Aramis and Porthos already waiting for them.

They spent a few minutes catching their breath and looking along the route they knew their missing friends would take. When there was still no sign, d'Artagnan walked a few paces along the path, peering forward.

'They should be here,' he said, knowing he was stating the obvious.

D'Artagnan turned back to Athos who looked as concerned as he felt. After a few more seconds contemplation, Athos walked up to Aramis' horse, retrieved his medical bag and walked passed d'Artagnan along the path.

'Do you think something has happened?' asked d'Artagnan as he fell into step beside Athos.

'There is no sign of them or the other three gang members, they should have been here by now. There is a good chance that something has happened.'

D'Artagnan noted the worry in Athos' voice and the quickness of his pace.

MMMM

Aramis had his back to where Porthos was leaning against the rocks. He had no idea what state his friend was in. Porthos had looked close to passing out when Aramis had last been able to steal a glance at him.

The two men were untrained and undisciplined fighters. All Aramis needed was for them to make a mistake that he could take advantage of. One of the men had a short reach and was jumping back and forth with each sword strike, this left him frequently unbalanced. But the other man was taller and did not need to move about as much to keep Aramis busy.

As he continued to fight, the shorter man darted out again and swung his sword in as large an arc as he could manage. Aramis reacted by taking a small step to the left. Unfortunately for the Musketeer, the taller man was mid swing at the same moment. The sword connected with his left arm, slicing through the leather of his doublet and biting deeply into his flesh. Aramis knew the wound was serious before the swordsman had pulled the weapon back.

He stumbled to the side, ending up leaning against the tree he had earlier used as cover. It was not often that he was caught off guard by an inferior swordsman. But accidents happened, lucky chances were taken and sometimes he was on the receiving end of the blade.

Aramis had been badly injured before, he knew that if the wound was dealt with quickly he would recover. But first, he had to deal with the two men who were fighting him. And now he was injured, that had suddenly become a much more difficult prospect.

The few steps he had taken to the side and the shock of receiving the injury had left him briefly disorientated. He had to fight the two men, he had to protect Porthos. Porthos had the paperwork.

Porthos yelled at him. Aramis spun around to look at his friend taking another couple of steps to the side as the did so.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Porthos watched in horror as the smaller swordsman had managed to get a lucky hit in. He sliced Aramis' arm causing the marksman to stagger a few paces over to the right. Porthos could not help himself, he yelled out his friend's name in shock. Aramis turned at the noise and staggered another couple of steps and ended up leaning on the tree.

Porthos reached back for the gun he had dropped before he had attacked the injured man on the ground. He could not take his eyes off the fight occurring in front of him, he knew he would only get one chance. His fingers closed around the butt of the weapon, he pulled it into his grasp. Dragging his arm around he used the body of the man he had killed to rest his arm on, he lined up his shot. He did not think, he just fired. The taller man froze, his sword clattering to the floor as his hand stopped working. The man crumpled to the floor, the trickle of blood sliding down his face the only indication of the injury the ball had caused as it buried itself into the man's head, just above his hairline.

Aramis had managed to push himself off the tree and was trying to bring his right arm up to defend himself. His left arm hung by his side, his main gauche still held loosely and uselessly in his hand.

Porthos knew Aramis would be too slow, he was becoming confused as the shock and pain of his injury took over his senses. Porthos' own injury was plaguing him, but somehow he had pushed the pain to one side, for now. He did not know how long he would be able to focus for.

The man he had killed had dropped a gun, but it was tantalisingly out of reach. Porthos knew he would not be able to reach it.

The shorter man had wasted no time, he had twisted his sword and after pushing Aramis back towards the tree smacked the hilt into the side of the marksman's head. The effect was instant, Aramis slumped to the floor, a crumpled heap leaning against the tree.

The gang member turned the sword back and prepared to run Aramis through.

But Porthos, in those few seconds, had not been idle, he had collected the dagger he had used to kill the third man. He had pushed himself up enough to raise his arm and he had thrown the weapon.

MMMM

'We can't be far from where we split up from them,' said d'Artagnan as he led the way, gun drawn, along the path.

The further they had walked the more concerned they had become. Athos had expected to find the pair much sooner. He was expecting them to appear around each corner with a glib remark about how he and d'Artagnan should not have been worried about them. Athos expected them to appear telling tales of how they beat off the three men. Athos expected both Aramis and Porthos to come up with increasingly outlandish stories of the sword fight they must have had.

But neither man appeared.

D'Artagnan had drawn his gun several minutes before, Athos was on the verge of pulling his own weapon from his belt. Athos knew something had gone wrong. His friends must have encountered a problem. He found it hard to believe that the two of them, well trained, disciplined soldiers would have had any difficulty fighting off three malnourished gang members, who had probably never been formally taught how to hold a sword, let alone spar.

They continued to follow the path, hoping to find their friends well, but increasingly knowing they would not.

MMMM

The man who had been about to kill Aramis staggered back, the dagger Porthos had thrown protruded from his neck. Porthos watched, as the man tried in vain to pull the dagger from his neck which was already slick with blood. As the man panicked, the blood flowed quicker from the wound. He turned around and stared at Porthos who had scrambled back and pushed himself up to stand.

The man's face had drained of all colour, he was gasping, his ineffectual fingers clutching but not gripping the dagger. He took a few steps forwards before swaying and sinking to his knees. Porthos thought the man was trying to form words, his mouth worked, but no sound other than a guttural gurgle emerged. A few more seconds of staring at his killer was all the man could manage before he slumped forwards and did not move again.

'Aramis?'

Porthos wasted no time. The threat was gone, but his friend was still in danger. Porthos could see the blood dripping from Aramis' arm. The wound was still bleeding freely, his friend's life was draining from him as Porthos watched. Aramis was not unconscious, he was staring off into the distance.

'Aramis, you have to come over here, we need to bind the wound...Aramis!'

The marksman managed to turn his head to look at Porthos. The side of Aramis; face was covered in bruises. Porthos realised his friend was concussed and confused.

'You need to come over here. Please, Aramis.'

The pain in Porthos' ankle and the strain he had put on himself during the fight was starting to take its toll. Porthos was worried he would pass out before he could help Aramis. If he passed out Aramis might bleed to death. His friend might just sit where he was and die, confused, not even knowing what was happening to him.

Aramis started to push himself up to stand, he swayed when he straightened up, but remained standing.

'Come over here.' said Porthos as slowly and clearly as he could.

Aramis managed a stumbled, confused walk. It was only a few yards, but to Porthos, it felt like miles as he watched his friend.

As Aramis neared him Porthos reached out and grabbed his friend's uninjured arm. Aramis came to a stop in front of him, his eyes unfocused.

'Sit down.'

Aramis did not sit down, he looked away, along the path that they should have travelled.

'I have to go,' he said.

'No, you have to sit down, Aramis, please just sit down.'

Porthos tried to gently pull his pale friend to the ground. He could feel his own strength leaving him rapidly.

Aramis pulled slightly at Porthos' hand, he tried to walk away, taking a wobbling step.

'I have to take the documents...that's what you want me to do. You want me to leave you here.'

Porthos rolled his eyes, now that he needed Aramis to stay put, the stubborn man wanted to leave.

'That was before, I need you to stay now.'

Aramis shook his head, which caused him to sway again, 'no, I'm going.'

Aramis tried to walk away again, his journey stopped by Porthos' firm grip on his arm. Porthos knew he only had a few seconds before he could not keep hold of Aramis any longer. If he let Aramis go, the chances were he would wander off and collapse somewhere. If they were not found soon Aramis would die. No. Porthos had to keep his confused friend with him. He could not knock Aramis out, tempting as it was. Porthos doubted he had the strength left to hit him hard enough, and it would be dangerous to the already concussed man.

He reached up with his other hand and grabbed Aramis' left arm, squeezing the wound as hard as his fading energy would allow. Aramis looked at him, his expression one of shock. Porthos did not like hurting his friend, but he had no choice.

'I'm sorry,' he said as Aramis gasped, then cried out in pain, weakly pulling at Porthos, trying to get him to let go.

Porthos continued to squeeze the wound, Aramis cried out again, before slumping forward. Porthos grabbed him and managed to manoeuvre them both to sit on the floor. He leaned his friend against the rock, checked that his breathing was even and quickly went about binding the wound on his arm using his bandana and Aramis' sash.

Porthos looked up when he heard the noise of people approaching. He pushed himself up to stand, it was probably Athos and d'Artagnan. But if it was not, Porthos was determined he would not be killed sat huddled on the floor like a frightened animal.

MMMM

When they heard Aramis cry in pain they quickened their pace. For their friend to yell out he must have been in some considerable pain. When he cried out a second time, they abandoned all pretence of a silent approach.

D'Artagnan rounded the corner first, he skidded to a halt with his arms held out in submission. He was aware of Athos stopping behind him.

Porthos was stood a few yards away, caught by the ankle in a rusty old man trap. He was standing and aiming a gun in their direction. It took him a few seconds to register who he was aiming the weapon at. With a look of relief, he let his gun arm drop to his side. Porthos swayed then collapsed to the floor, hissing with pain as the action jarred his trapped leg.

D'Artagnan rushed forward and grabbed Porthos before he slumped back into the rocks.

'It's OK, we're here now,' he said.

'Is he alright?' asked Athos looking down at the unconscious form of Aramis.

'Bad cut to the arm, he's lost a lot of blood, and he's concussed, I had to hurt him to make him pass out, he was trying to walk away,' Porthos said as d'Artagnan managed to push him up to lean against the rocks, his trapped leg bent uncomfortably.

'OK,' said d'Artagnan glancing at Aramis, then back at Porthos, 'let's get you out of this thing first, then we can stitch the wound, he's not going to get any worse, now that the wound is bound.'

Porthos nodded, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock, panting slightly.

Between them, d'Artagnan and Athos prised the trap's jaws apart. Porthos could not help hissing in pain as he pulled his leg free. He was breathing hard and close to passing out by the time he was free.

Athos felt along Porthos' foot and ankle trying to assess if his friend had any broken bones.

As Porthos regained control of his breathing he said, 'I don't think anything's broken, it's just bruised...I'm not gonna be able to walk on it though.'

D'Artagnan watched as Athos eased the injured musketeers boot off. Porthos screwed his eyes shut, panting again. The ankle was swollen and, as suspected, badly bruised.

'See to Aramis,' said Porthos after a few moments, looking at his pale friend with concern.

D'Artagnan undid Aramis' doublet and with Athos help divested their unconscious friend of it. The wound was still bleeding sluggishly, now that the temporary dressing had been removed. Athos lay out what they would need to stitch the wound.

D'Artagnan cleaned and stitched as Athos held Aramis' arm still. The marksman did not stir during their ministrations.

'He's breathing OK. He'll be weak, but he should be fine,' said d'Artagnan as he wrapped a clean bandage around the stitched injury.

Porthos sighed with relief. Athos had managed to get the worried musketeer to drink some water as they had worked on Aramis. Porthos no longer looked like he about to pass out.

'We just have to hope he is more his usual self when he wakes up,' said d'Artagnan.

'Yes, he's stubborn at the best of times, but he was really quite determined to go off on his own earlier,' replied Porthos.

MMMM

As the silhouette of the rock face came into focus Aramis blinked a few times. His vision sharpening each time he opened his eyes. His head hurt, he knew he was concussed and that moving was not going to be pleasant, but he would have to move at some point.

Slowly he turned his head and found d'Artagnan, which surprised him slightly. The last thing he remembered was running and fighting the other men with Porthos.

'Hello,' said his friend with a smile.

Aramis tried to lift his head, but changed his mind when his world began to spin.

'Take your time,' he heard d'Artagnan say as he felt a steadying hand rest on his shoulder.

As the sickening motion settled down he tried the movement again, but much slower and with the assistance of his friend. When he had reached a sitting position, he had to wait for his eyes to catch up with him. He found he was breathing quickly, he tried to calm his breaths. D'Artagnan had moved his hand to rest in the middle of his back, keeping him upright, his other hand gently lying on his leg.

'Can you manage a drink? You've lost a lot of blood.'

Aramis did not bother to nod, he knew it would not be a good idea. D'Artagnan took the stopper from the water skin and held it up to his lips.

'That will do. How are you feeling? Porthos said you were confused earlier, you were trying to leave on your own. He said he struggled to stop you wandering off.'

Aramis thought for a moment, he did not remember much about the fight.

'Where is Porthos? And Athos?' he asked slowly looking around.

'On their way back to the horses. Porthos can't walk on his injured leg, it's going to take them a while to get there. We could tell you were starting to come around, so they decided to get a head start.'

'But what if I was still...confused?' asked Aramis.

He knew that even with an injury he might have made a nuisance of himself for d'Artagnan.

His friend chuckled, 'oh I took precautions,' he said glancing down at Aramis' arms and legs

Aramis followed d'Artagnan's gaze, his wrists and ankles were tied with his weapons belts. He had not noticed the bindings until they were pointed out to him.

As d'Artagnan began to release him Aramis managed to look around again, he saw the bodies of the three men lined up neatly a few yards away.

'I didn't manage to take any of them out,' he said with a frown, 'Porthos was stuck in a man trap and he was the one that did all the work…'

'I'm sure he will enjoy teasing you about that later. He was too worried about you earlier to really talk about what happened.'

D'Artagnan hooked his arm under Aramis' and slowly pulled the marksman up to stand. Aramis could not help groaning in pain as the action aggravated his headache and pulled at the stitches on his arm.

'Sorry,' said d'Artagnan once he was sure Aramis was holding his own weight, 'we'll take it slow, we'll probably catch the others up anyway.'

Aramis began to walk forward, finding d'Artagnan beside him snaking his arm around his waist as they walked. Normally he would have protested at the apparent mollycoddling, but found it a comfort to know that if he were to stumble he would not stumble far.

MMMM

'Rest for a few moments,' said Athos, 'I could do with a break myself...this is not the easiest of terrains to traverse.'

Porthos nodded, gratefully, he allowed Athos to lower him onto a low rock. The swordsman sat beside him. They had made good progress considering his handicap. Athos had found a stout tree branch to act as a walking stick, after a few hundred yards of their journey. It had helped speed them up considerably, but the strain of hopping over the uneven ground had tired Porthos quickly.

He looked back along the path, towards the spot they had left d'Artagnan watching the still unconscious Aramis. The marksman had looked very pale when they left, he had stirred a couple of times, which indicated to them that he would awaken soon. D'Artagnan had suggested that Porthos and Athos start to make their way back to the horses. Even if Aramis was still confused when he awoke d'Artagnan would be able to deal with him. As they had left Porthos could not help a chuckle as d'Artagnan began to wrap the marksman's own weapon belt around his wrists as a precaution.

'If they have not caught us up by the time we reach the horses, I will go back,' said Athos who was also watching the path for their friends.

'I'm sure he'll be fine,' said Porthos, 'it was just worrying when I could not get him to come over to me.'

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds. Both men looked up when they heard voices. D'Artagnan and Aramis had nearly caught them up. Aramis still looked pale, his arm held in a sling made from his now stained sash. D'Artagnan was holding him around the waist but did not seem to be supporting the marksman.

'Hello,' said Aramis with a smile, 'I understand I caused you some problems...I apologise.'

Porthos smiled back, 'if you knew what I did to stop you wandering off you probably wouldn't be apologising.'

Aramis frowned, he looked at Athos and d'Artagnan.

'I had to hurt you, I'm sorry,' said Porthos a little contritely.

Aramis thought for a moment, 'well I have no recollection of that, so let's not worry about it.'

Porthos grinned again before saying, 'thank you, for not leaving me there...as you should have done.'

Athos huffed at the remark, 'the chances of any of us leaving one of us in danger are very slim. You would have stayed with Aramis, or either of us,' he indicated himself and d'Artagnan, 'had the roles been reversed.'

Porthos nodded, 'I know. We just have to remember not to let him,' Porthos looked at Aramis, 'get a bang on the head if it happens again, all bets are off then...he'll leave you in a heartbeat.'

The End.


End file.
